The Grand Life Plan

Something about being 25 years old and three years out of school means that most times when people see me, I am asked one question:

So what are you doing with your life?

I guess it's a question that is valid enough. From the outside looking in, I'm really not doing much.

I don't date, so I'm clearly not on the "married with kids" track.
I work for my parents because nobody else on the East Coast will hire me, so I'm not on the "high-powered career" track.
I spend my free time running, reading, and volunteering, so I'm not particularly "ambitious."
Furthermore, I'm not in Africa, so I don't look at all like the "missionary" I thought I would be by now.

I think people probably assume that because I'm not on the mission field now, I misheard - that missions was never really the plan. And I don't fault them for that thought at all. Heck, *I* thought I misheard.

I didn't. I'm more sure of that today than I was two years ago. I'm called.

But here's the thing: I'm also human. So when God speaks, it gets filtered through my own desires and wills and sinful nature and it ends up looking like a schoolyard game of "telephone."

God might be trying to tell me that to "go to Canada next summer to meet the love of your life."
But by the time it is filtered through my fear of looking ridiculous, my insatiable desire to "be successful," my need to so something bigger than myself, and my [totally God-given] desire to serve, I might hear something more like, "hop a train to Mexico and build houses for the rest of your life."

All this is to say that I didn't misunderstand. I'm called. I'm not in Africa now, but that doesn't mean I'll never be. And it certainly doesn't mean that the last two years has been a waste - the process of applying for missions and the subsequent counseling they suggested have brought out the best and worst parts of me.

These years have highlighted just what tight grip I hold on my illusion of "control" and how desperately I need to let that go.
They have left me floundering, looking silly, taking major hits to my pride - and realizing that it was never about what everyone else thinks of me to begin with.
They have taught me what it means to be flawed and broken and painfully messy.

These two years have been God dragging me into the wilderness (kicking and screaming, to be sure) and stripping me naked. It has felt like an act of violence, but in the end has been the purest act of love.

So now what? Now, as I'm finally coming out on the other side of two of the most gut-wrenching years of my life? Now what's the plan?

To be honest, I've rejected any plan. This seems strange for someone who was, at age 12, planning how to get into Harvard Medical School. But I simply don't know what to do anymore. My plans certainly haven't been working. So I quit.

I'm following Jesus.

I'm getting up each morning and surrendering my crap.
I'm praying and learning to listen for replies.
I'm obeying in the best way I can.
I'm accepting the fact that I probably look really foolish to a lot of people.
I'm learning to give myself some measure of the same grace that God gives me.


It's not perfect.
Most days, it's not even pretty.

But the yoke is easy and the burden is light.
I'm following Jesus.
THAT'S what I'm doing with my life.

That's all I can hope to do.